Waiting at the end of
our worn out private drive
children running off their
end of the school day energy
we wait. Your pile of dictionaries
can provide no word that fully
captures the regret of 31 years
away from her. I don’t know why
I am feeling so empathetic towards
you, a stranger, but here we are
waiting, together. You ask for a hug
and our chests meet in such pain,
a dark green permeates the sky
and you are begin to swivel and shake
your true nature recking all that’s in
your path, I run and sob, why do
I always let the hurt ones in?
-
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rowe 